


#17 Tails It Is

by justlikedaylightsavingstime



Series: Santa Claus Is Coming To Town [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas lets Dean have the book, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Dean is a little bit rude, Hot Chocolate, M/M, apparently meg and sam both want a greek mythology book, cafe date, christmassy goodness, gonna justify that one later, mentions of Meg and Sam, mild enemies to friends, rush to buy presents, santa claus is coming to town, they make up, xmas advent calendar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:17:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikedaylightsavingstime/pseuds/justlikedaylightsavingstime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are both desperate to get hold of the same present on Christmas Eve. What could have led to a messy fight instead forms the start of a holiday romance. (Cue chick flick tropes).</p>
            </blockquote>





	#17 Tails It Is

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mix up of several prompts:  
> "Finding snug café"  
> "Meeting for the first time (chat him/her up in café, at the supermarket, fight over last remaining present then bond over said present and decide to have a joint Christmas celebration BOOYAH, etc.)"  
> "Shops are closed and you need a present the day BEFORE Christmas, what are you gonna do? Who will help? (cute bonding moment or simply lending a hand, you decide)"  
> "Coffee/hot chocolate success"
> 
> Title: Tails It Is  
> Pairing: Wildcard (Dean/Castiel)  
> Type: Romantic  
> Rating: G/PG  
> Word Count: 4,923  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.   
> Summary: Dean and Cas are both desperate to get hold of the same present on Christmas Eve. What could have led to a messy fight instead forms the start of a holiday romance. (Cue chick flick tropes).  
> Warnings: Probably swearing.
> 
> Happy 17th December!

So this one is for the [2014 Destiel Advent Calendar](http://destieladventcalendar.tumblr.com/) and the [2014 spn pairing bingo](http://spnpairingbingo.livejournal.com/) (as well as filling in as #17 on my advent calendar). There will quite probably be part 2, so keep your eyes peeled.  
You can also read this on my [LJ account.](http://roastspud.livejournal.com/4611.html)

****

Panic. That was all that was flashing through Dean’s mind as he barrelled down the last isle of the store. It had to be there, it just had to. He narrowly avoided a precariously balanced tower of books, veering off to the side. A particularly harassed-looking mother gave him a downright dirty glare as she pulled her child out of his path. He didn’t even have time to stop and make a sarcastic comment or give a cheeky grin. He had to get there now.

His brain didn’t have time to process the grating voice of the announcer muttering about how the shop would be closing in the next few minutes. He just kept rushing forwards.

What the hell was he going to do if it wasn’t sitting there? Probably have a heart attack. Why hadn’t he hadn’t bought it the first time he’d seen it. Because he was Dean freaking Winchester, that’s why, and he’d known he’d be able to find something better. How hard could it be to find the perfect present for his little brother? Really hard, apparently.

So now he was left with the last resort, desperately hoping that that damned book was where he’d last seen it. Damn, where was it. He skidded around the corner as he raced towards the right spot, eyes on the prize. And there it was. He wasn’t too late. Everything would be okay. Christmas was saved. Hallelujah!

The giant book was balanced on top of an old rickety table, cushioned among a vibrant collection of fairy lights. It was just waiting for Dean to lay claim to the beefy leather cover.

His pace slowed down, legs still marching as he tried to catch his breath. Grinning at his luck, he reached his hand out, grasping the thick collection of pages ready to pull it toward him. But he met some serious unexpected resistance. Giving it another tug he realised that someone else’s hand was clamped down on it. And that that hand was accompanied by an arm, and a shoulder, and a neck, and a rather pissed off face. Shit.

****

It was unusual for Castiel to leave his Christmas shopping so late, but work had kept him so busy he just hadn’t been able to find the time. He had brusquely marched his way up to the shop, carefully ignoring all the flouncy decorations as he searched out the perfect present. He didn’t have much patience for the gaudiness of Christmas, but even he couldn’t escape the obligations attached to that particular celebration. Surely there had to be something here that would be suitable for Meg.  
She was so difficult to buy for. They’d decided years ago (or at least Meg had) that Castiel had a terrible taste in jewellery, so that had been vetoed. At least his brothers were happy just being doused in expensive alcohol, and Ana always just wanted a new outfit. Meg was the awkward one.

Joke presents never seemed to go down well, she was too intimidating for one thing, and Castiel always seemed to miss the point of her jokes. The year he’d bought her a stuffed unicorn plushy she’d just looked at him sadly saying “Oh honey!” and “I don’t think you’re ever going to understand that one Clarence.”

It held pride of place on her bedside cabinet, but Castiel had a feeling that the little unicorn brought her more sadness than joy for some reason.

As he paced through the wonky shelves of the cramped little bookstore, Castiel decided that next year he’d just get Meg to pick out her own present and then all he’d have to do would be to pay for it. It was just easier, and she’d probably love it anyway. She always enjoyed any opportunity to take the micky out of her best friend.

He definitely was not a recreational shopper by any stretch of the imagination. But needs must. This place was his last hope, failing this he was going to have to do some hardcore searching. It was getting to that time of day when everything was shutting up. The last thing he wanted was to spend the rest of his Christmas Eve trailing round searching for any crazy shops that might still be open, tiredly looking for a suitable gift.

Right on cue, the creaky sound system blurred to life, declaring the shop almost closed. Castiel’s heart sank a little as he resigned himself to his fate. At least he could look forward to some hard earned liquor when he eventually found his way home.

Then his eyes alit upon an unusual item. He would almost call it a leather-bound monstrosity. It easily drew his attention. As he moved in for a closer look he noticed the title. Greek mythology, perfect. Right down Meg’s street. He sent a grateful thanks up to the heavens, maybe his evening was saved after all.

Castiel reached for the book at the same time as the man next to him. Unwilling to lose such a lucky find he kept a firm grip on it, fixing his competitor with one of his ultra-intense stares. Which he almost regretted, as the rival in question had an undeniably gorgeous face. Damn. Despite the deep red hue, probably a mix of the cold night air and the exertion of running through the storm, it was beautiful.

The blissful smile on the man’s face almost had him dropping his claim, particularly when the smile transformed into an unwelcoming grimace as he noticed the threat that Castiel posed to his purchase. There was a sense of urgency and panic behind the man’s smile. Well tough.

Drawing his mind back to the urgent issue at hand, Castiel attempted to shake off any non-gift related thoughts. It would take more than an attractive face and dirty blond hair (which incidentally was just demanding to be stroked) to faze Castiel. With a significant amount of willpower, he focused on solidifying the antagonism behind his stare.

The other man was likewise steeling himself. Castiel could barely refrain from rolling his eyes as the man literally puffed out his chest and hardened the expression on his face. If that’s how the douche wanted to play it, then fine. It was a shame really, it had been a while since Castiel had found anyone even a tenth as attractive as he did this aggressive shopper.

Unfortunately he seemed to have a good few inches on Castiel, so the shorter man was just going to have to rely on his aloof aura and hardened exterior to try to out-masculine this guy. He threw in an impressive eyebrow raise for good measure.

“Dude, I think you’ve got your hand on my book.” Dude, who even said dude any more.

“Actually, I’ll think you’ll find that this book has not yet been sold and so technically belongs to the bookstore.” Castiel’s voice held firm, it was the tone that usually had everyone in the office jumping to desperately follow his orders. If the darkening expression of the other man was anything to go by, he didn’t appreciate the reply.

He seemed to favour a more flippant approach, ignoring the severity to Castiel’s voice and letting out a mocking laugh. “Finders keepers, losers weepers!”

“That makes no sense, I require this book as a present and no children’s rhyme will alter that.”

“Well I need it for my little brother, so just take that stick out of your ass and back off!”

They were practically standing nose to nose at that point (or if Castiel was honest with himself nose to chin). For one long hazy moment, Castiel faced the old conundrum of trying to figure out whether he wanted to punch or kiss the guy. Too sensible to do either, he merely maintained a cool expression and formidable glare.

It was only by sheer force of will that Castiel convinced himself not to rise to the bait. The last thing he needed was the complication of a brawl in the middle of a bookshop on Christmas Eve. Luckily, one of them was able to act like an adult, Castiel thought as he drew a shiny new cent from his pocket. Still keeping his grip on the highly-desired book, Castiel brandished the penny in his free hand.

“Why don’t we settle it like adults?” The other guy practically deflated at that, all the pomp and hyper-macho gestures just draining away, instantly becoming more likeable as the delicate wrinkles around his eyes softened. “Heads or tails?”

The dirty blond squinted a pair of deliciously green eyes at him for a moment, as if trying to figure out Castiel’s game. He must have decided that he could out-trick whatever he thought Castiel’s plan was as he soon blurted out “Tails”.

That was all it took to convince Castiel to flip the coin, watching the twists and curls as it pirouetted through the air. Catching it mid-air he patted it onto the table, taking note of the raised design on the front.

His eyes flicked back to the hopeful face blinking at him, before being drawn back to the penny on the desk. Damn, why did the guy have to seem so much more pleasant now? Behind the macho exterior, Castiel could tell that this book was very important to him. And of course, Castiel just couldn’t help himself. With an overdramatic sigh he shrugged, releasing the book (and along with it his dreams for a peaceful evening). “Tails it is. I hope your brother enjoys it.”

Leaving the guy to revel in his victory, Castiel quickly made his way out of the shop. If he had a whole night of disastrous shopping ahead he might as well get an early start on it. The wind howled as he stepped out onto the snow, drawing his tan coat closer around himself and cushioning his hands in the thin fabric.

****

Dean watched the dark haired guy storm off. He couldn’t help but feel a thin sense of satisfaction at winning the coin toss. He may even have let out a gloat or two. Ahh well, pretty people were always more fun to beat. At least he had Sammy’s present sorted. He had already decided that the younger Winchester wasn’t going to be disappointed this year. They were going to do everything right, from the presents, to the tree to the egg-nog. This even included prime home cooked food, although Dean had more faith in his own cooking skills than Sam did.

Rousing himself from his little victory, Dean finally yanked the book off the table. He may have let out a little oof, but come on that shit was heavy. As he dislodged the book his eyes landed on the coin that the attempted book thief had abandoned on the table. He couldn’t deny the spike of surprise that flashed through him when he noticed the proud head of Abraham Lincoln blinking up at him. Tails his ass.

Why the hell had that guy just let Dean have the book? He’d obviously been pretty desperate. And he’d even tried to pick a fight with Dean. But there it was, clear as day is day.

Without even thinking Dean found his feet pounding the floor again as he raced towards the door, looking for the mysterious stranger. As he reached the door he found his way barred by the arm of a disapproving shop assistant who was glancing meaningfully down at the book in Dean’s hand.

Apologising profusely Dean rushed towards the counter, slamming the book down and impatiently waiting for it to be rung through. When it finally was he snatched it up, wasting a couple of seconds asking if either of the shop assistants knew which way the ‘gorgeous brunet with the ridiculous coat’ went. He didn’t even have time to be embarrassed at his description before he’d acknowledged their shaking heads and dashed towards the exit.

And then he was out of the door and into the world of swirling white. Damn it. Of all the days to forget the jacket that he practically lived in. Thank god for the Winchester layering tradition. Grasping his shirt tighter around him and taking a tighter hold on the book, he paused. A couple of quick glances either way up the street gave him no clue. Mindful that any hesitation could be the turning point between catching up with the blue eyed stranger and missing him forever he picked a direction.

Something drove his feet, nudging him to choose the left. Dean stumbled through the snow, clunky boots not made for dashing through such an obstruction. At each step the powdery white snow caught his foot, dragging it back just a little. He huffed out his frustration.

As the darkness swallowed him up, he found himself scrunching his eyes to catch the blaze of the next streetlight. Every few feet he’d have to wipe the wet refuse of the pouring snow from his face, ignoring the tingling numbing sensation in is fingertips.

Dean had no idea why he felt such a compulsion to catch hold of his holiday benefactor. Maybe it had something to do with the guilt he felt over his own selfishness. It was definitely not linked to the intense stare and commanding presence that Dean would usually fall head over heels for. Dean had sworn off ‘relations’ (as Sam had referred to them) of any kind for the rest of the holidays. There was even a bet on it regarding which of the Winchester brothers would have to do the post-New Year Party clean up. So far it was looking good for the elder Winchester.

His sudden desire to find the dark haired guy had everything to do with thanking him for his holiday kindness, and absolutely nothing to do with those burning blue eyes. Or at least that’s what Dean told himself as he scrambled through the snow, eventually catching sight of indescribable shadow fliting in between streetlights in front of him. Speeding up his pace, Dean drew closer, making out the faded beige of a familiar trenchcoat just before it disappeared into another patch of darkness.  
“Hey, wait up!” He kept shouting, throat going hoarse as the bracing air rushed into his lungs.

The man made no move to turn round as Dean caught up to him, gave no response to his shouts. So Dean raised his arm, planning on just tapping the guy’s shoulder. Of course that was the moment his foot decided to collide with a particularly vicious patch of ice. He soon found himself tumbling forward, clasping hold of the man in front as he sent them both sprawling.

****

Castiel kept thinking he heard some ghostly voice echoing behind him, but decided that it was probably just the wind. He kept a determined step going as he made his way back to the main shopping area. It felt as if he were wading through a blizzard as he fought through the growing blur of white and the whistling of the wind.

Wary of the shining patches of ice, he tread carefully, all his concentration focused on the ground. Which was why he wasn’t expecting it when a heavy object barrelled into him and threw him to the ground.

In a matter of seconds he found himself pinned face down into a cold and slushy pile of snow, leaving him thrashing and panicking. Castiel twisted himself round, ignoring the new found pain in his hip as he attempted to figure out what had happened. Of all the things he expected to see, this was not one of them. The green eyed man from the shop was straddling him, the smile on his face half way between a laugh and an apology.

Castiel’s fear quickly dissipated. Although he should probably be worried about this probable stalker, he just couldn’t bring himself to see anyone with such a mindblowing smile as dangerous. Nevertheless, he shoved the lump backwards, scrambling up so he could draw himself into a more dignified position. Despite being more intrigued than angry, Castiel still made sure to fix the other man with a glare. It wasn’t polite to push people over.

At least the other man had the grace to look sheepish, his hand nervously running up and down the back of his neck. When his voice came out it was rough and scratchy from the cold, and Castiel could almost feel his insides melting at the very sound of it. “Sorry man, I…erm….slipped.”

When Castiel failed to offer a reply the other guy became more awkward, reaching out an arm into the gap between them and giving a small nod. “Dean.”

After leaving Dean’s hand hanging for a few moments, Castiel grasped it warmly, seeing the surprise flash across Dean’s face.

“Castiel.” His voice was still gruff, his expression still guarded, but that didn’t seem to affect the man in front of him.

“Nice to meet you, Castiel.” Now that Dean had managed to eke the handshake out of him he seemed to take that as permission to move closer. Castiel’s breath caught in his throat, partly at the glorious sound of his name spoken in such a reverent way, and partly at the touch of big firm hands brushing against his coat, shaking the snow from it.

“What do you want Dean?”

Dean’s cheeks, already flushed, turned redder. “I just wanted to say thank you, you know, for letting me have the book.”

A small smile escaped Castiel’s lips at the comment, as he shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. Guess he’d been caught out. A rather selfish and ungracious part of him was celebrating, performing little summersaults in his stomach, as he realised that the handsome stranger had noticed his good deed and had obviously thought it worth chasing him down the street to thank him for it. Castiel had known in his heart of hearts (because mentioning any other organ would just be crass) that he’d made the right decision.

He was soon surprised to find himself shaking, the wet snow had obviously seeped through his various thin layers of clothing. Dean seemed to pick up on it, clasping a warm hand on his sodden shoulder. “At least let me buy you a coffee or something to say thank you?” His tone brooked little argument.

As soaked and shivering as Castiel was, nothing sounded more heavenly right then than a hot drink and the chance to find out more about his mysterious assailant. Before he knew what he was doing, he had nodded his head. In a very short time Castiel found himself dragged into a tiny little café, which was shockingly still open.

Wonderful. Instead of focusing his time on getting Meg’s present, he was getting coffee with an absolute stranger. And the worst part of it, was that he was that he was actually enjoying himself as they both settled onto strangle little seats and flicked open the delightfully unassuming menus.

****

This new guy was an enigma. Cas, or Castiel, or whatever his name was, was weird, no doubt about that. He barely smiled, and was nothing if not gruff. But Dean couldn’t help feeling that the guy was so much more than that. Castiel had obviously attempted to engage in some form of small talk on the short walk to the café. Unfortunately, Dean didn’t have much of an opinion on bees, or much knowledge about their hive-building habits, so he was only able to offer short replies. As Cas held the door to the coffee shop open for him, he found himself soppily grinning. Something in Cas’ stance suggested the guy at least wasn’t hating the time spent with him either.

They both settled on some fancy kind of hot chocolate, although Dean didn’t miss the bulge of Castiel’s eyes when he caught sight of Dean’s cup. It was over spilling with cream, marshmallows, cinnamon, flakes and God knows what else. Practically pure sugar, just the way Dean liked it.

After he’d taken a deep gulp of his perfect drink, Dean sat back trying to break the awkward silence that had been prevalent since the bee conversation. “So who were you buying the book for?”

“Meg.”

“Oh, your girlfriend.” Dean attempted, and probably failed, to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Well, he couldn’t say that he hadn’t been expecting it, but a guy could hope.

“Ah no, she’s my best friend. I don’t…um…I don’t swing that way.” And if those sweet words uttered by that sweet mouth weren’t enough to have Dean falling head over heels. The sharp look Castiel sent him suggested that he’d picked up on Dean’s obvious grin. And for once in his life, Dean found that he didn’t care.

His grin was timidly returned, and Dean was pleasantly surprised when Cas’ hand unclasped from his mug, reaching out to brush a thumb across his top lip. Like all his movements it was a little strange, but that didn’t make it any less genuine or make Dean’s chest flutter any less. “You are a rather messy drinker!”

If anyone else had said that, Dean would probably have blown up at them, or at least given some sort of scathing reply. But the little lilt to Cas’ voice and the fond smile softened the blow. Instead, he thought it would be prudent to change the topic. “So what are you going to do about your friend’s present?”

“I guess I’ll just trail round trying to find something suitable.” The reply sent guilt, and something much less tangible and familiar, running through his brain. He might not know the guy well, but come on, anyone who was willing to sacrifice their Christmas Eve to help Sammy get a present was definitely going to be in Dean’s good books.

“Hell no! You can’t do that. It’s Christmas Eve man.” For a moment he worried that he had been too emphatic, that he’d scared the other guy off, but Castiel just smiled at the concern in his voice. “I tell you what, I know the prefect place. If you can’t find something there then you won’t be able to find something anywhere. I’ll take you there after this.”

He hated to admit it, but he’d probably spend the entirety of Christmas Eve gift hunting if it meant he got to keep spending time with Cas. Not that the guy in question seemed to realise. ”I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“Don’t be stupid, it’s the least I can do, particularly after I acted like such a dick in the bookstore.” Dean rested his hands on the table, laughing at his own stupidity. He let out a little shudder. He was just glad that the other guy seemed to have forgiven it, particularly after he pushed him into the snow. “Especially when I thought I’d won fair and square.”

Castiel nodded, and was about to agree before he thought better of it. “Don’t worry about it, I thought your little victory dance was actually quite cute. I was pleased to have made you so happy.” Castiel let out a little shy smile around the rim of his coffee cup which Dean couldn’t help but reciprocate.

The next half an hour passed in a whirl, mostly with Dean chattering on far too much about Sammy. It wasn’t often anyone would listen to his rambling for so long, so he was more than making up for it now. He was just a proud big brother. It was a part of his being, and he couldn’t stop himself from expressing that every so often.

By the time they were close to finishing their drinks, Dean had realised that he might have been dominating the conversation too much, but at least Castiel didn’t seem to mind and had in fact been hanging onto every word with a very serious expression. Honestly, it was probably because the other guy was slightly intimidating, and Dean had no idea how to engage in a conversation with someone whose idea of small talk involved bees.

And yet, once he’d exhausted his role as Sam’s cheerleader, he found himself asking the question that had been on the tip of his tongue ever since they’d entered the café. “So why d’ya let me have the book?”

Dean was expecting some sort of dismissal, or distraction, so the upfront nakedness of Castiel’s words had him off his guard. “Well, I could say that I felt a deep empathetic connection to your plight, or that I am a naturally charitable man. But if I were to be honest, I would have to say that I’m mostly just a sucker for a pretty face.”

Dean was left gaping for a second, at war with himself as to whether he should object to the adjective, or embrace the welcome revelation. Obviously the second he spent gaping proved to be too long as he almost instantly felt Cas pull back into himself.

“I have made you uncomfortable. I apologise.” The other guy’s tone became more guarded, and he withdrew his hand from where it had been resting close to the middle of the small table.

Before he had chance to question the wisdom of the move, Dean found himself grabbing hold of the retreating hand with a light touch, only enough pressure there to show his intent. He couldn’t bear the thought of chasing Castiel away, of losing whatever unusual connection it was they’d found. When Castiel just looked at him questioningly he realised that he was expected to say something.

“No. Not uncomfortable, just, …awkward I guess. I’m usually smoother than this” He tried to chase the comment with a grin as he explained himself. Dean willed himself not to blush as the next few words came tumbling out. “There’s just something about you that makes me nervous. No, not in a bad way. Just in a weird way.”

Anyone else would have laughed at him for his stupidity, or been offended at the insinuation, but not Castiel. The only thing in his eyes was realisation and hope. At the very least Dean had managed not to offend the guy with his impromptu confession. Without further ado, Cas’ hand was pulled from Dean’s, his chair was scraped back and his coat was bundled into his arms.

“Well I can only see one remedy for that. We will just have to get to know each other better. And I can see no better start than by finding Meg’s present.”

Yet again the dark haired man had him stumped for a few moments as he gathered himself.

“Okay, I’ll go pay, I’ll meet you outside.” Dean gave Cas a little wave, trying to stop himself from bouncing up to the café counter as he paid for their drinks. As an afterthought he grabbed his cup, catching the last dregs, making sure it got smeared across his face, driven by memories of Cas’ thumb brushing across his top lip. Screw it. It wasn’t like he was ever likely to win the bet with Sam anyway. And if Dean went for something, he went in 110%.

****

Waiting out in the cold, beating his hands together, Castiel was desperately hoping that Dean was right about finding something in the shop. Either way, at least it meant he got to spend another few minutes with the captivating man. He’d been so caught up in Dean’s chattering, it almost seemed as if he was a part of his life. He already felt like he knew everything there was to know about Sammy.

At the tinkle of the café bell he spun round, coming face to face with the man in question.  
The man whose entire mouth was covered in sticky hot chocolate. The shit eating grin plastered across his face suggested it was deliberate, and Castiel unconsciously tilted his head to the side. Although the longer he stared at those truly kissable lips and those eyes that were infused with twinkling mischief, the more he thought he was probably beginning to understand. Not giving himself chance to chicken out, or put yet another wall up, Castiel surged forwards. His hands quickly found purchase at the base of Dean’s neck and pulling him towards him.

His lips brushed against Dean’s. It wasn’t a hard or demanding kiss. If anything it was one of the softest kisses Castiel had ever experienced. He just gently pressed forward, practically keening as Dean responded, delicately placing his hands in a barely-there touch on Castiel’s waist. The taste of cinnamon and almonds invaded Castiel’s mouth, setting his tongue on fire and leaving him gasping for air. It felt like hours later when they pulled apart, heaving chests and shy smiles. Castiel couldn’t quite hold back the deep chuckle that built up in his chest as he surveyed the mess still mostly on Dean’s face.

“What?”

Castiel just shook his head. “No, it’s too cheesy.”

“Cheesy?” Dean blinked up at him, making it obvious that he was expecting an explanation.

“I was just thinking, you taste like Christmas.” Dean smiled again at those words, dragging Castiel in for another kiss, this one a much shorter peck on the lips.

Dean’s sturdy hand reached out, tentatively grasping hold of Castiel’s as he entwined them together. He didn’t have time to catch his breath before Dean was off, running along like an excited puppy and dragging the shorter man in his wake. “Come on, you’ve got a present to buy!”

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat to me on tumblr: justlikedaylightsavingstime.tumblr.com


End file.
